The Water Is Wide
by Keitorin Asthore
Summary: The newsies as cute little kids. Begins with little Jack immigrating to America from Ireland. Hey, who doesn't want to see Spot Conlan sucking his thumb!
1. Default Chapter

_Killala, _ _County Mayo_ _Ireland__. March of 1888._

"Kelly, darlin', are ye quite sure?" Nora worried. "It was hard enough when you had Jack, and a second one…" Kelly laughed and patted her older sister's hand.

"Ye shouldn't worry, Nory dear." She giggled and ruffled her little boy's blond hair. "Jacky-boy's been wantin' a wee brablin to play with." Six-year-old Jack nodded absentmindedly. If they stayed long enough, maybe Aunt Nora would give him some of the cake that was cooling on the table. His thoughts were interrupted by a little blonde fireball whizzing past him, her skirts flying.

"Mumma, Mumma!" she shrieked. Nora bent down to the little girl's eye level.

"Mary and Joseph, Reilly, how did ye get so dirty?" she exclaimed, brushing dirt off the child's dress and hair.

"Spot was chasin' me!" Reilly pouted. Sure enough, the scruffy puppy poked his head around the door and yipped at her. Reilly, from the safety of her mother's knee, stuck her tongue out at the dog. The small dog barked, and Reilly ducked against Nora's shoulder.

"Morgan Conlan!" Nora scolded as she patted her small daughter on the head. The puppy's little master peeked around the door, the impish glint in his blue eyes matching the puppy's. "Morgan, you shouldn't tease your sister so."

"She deserved it, Mumma," Morgan said, looking innocently at his mother. "She was stole my slingshot and was practicin' down by the creek with it."

"Tattletale," Reilly yelped. The nearly-four-year-old twins glared at each other.

"That's enough," Nora said. "Mor, take Spot outside."

"But Mumma-" he protested, blue eyes wide.

"Mor," his mother warned. He gave an exaggerated sigh and tugged the puppy out. Nora threw up her hands. "The lad and the pup are together so much we might as well call them both Spot!" she exclaimed. Kelly pursed her lips.

"Spot Conlan. Hm, it sounds rather nice," she said, a smile playing with the corners of her mouth. Reilly tugged on her auntie's skirt.

"What am I to be?" she begged. Kelly tapped the little girl's snub nose.

"You're our own precious star, Reilly darlin'." Reilly grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. Kelly smiled back and stood up. "I'd better be getting home, Nora."

"All right, then. I shan't keep you." Jack tried not to look too disappointed at losing the possibility of cake. "Oh, Tierney says the photograph we had taken should be comin' from Galway soon." Kelly nodded.

"Aye, then. _Dia duit_, Nora." Jack trailed behind his mother as they made their way down to the ridge their little cottage was perched on.

"Carry me, Mumma," he begged, stretching out his small arms. Kelly laughed.

"Sure, and aren't ye old enough to be walkin' on your own, Francis Sullivan?"

Jack made a face. "Mumma, Francis is a girl name. I'm _Jack_," he insisted. "Like Da."

Kelly laughed again and picked him up. He sighed, deeply content, and nestled his head on her warm shoulder. "I love you, Mumma," he whispered. He felt her squeeze him gently.

"I love you too, Jacky boy." She kissed his soft cheek. "I love you so much."

_Killala, _ _County Mayo_ _Ireland__. July of 1888._

He didn't fully understand what was going on. All he knew was that Mumma was sick, and Da and Aunt Nora were with her, and he was stuck playing with his twin cousins.

"It's too hot to do anything," Morgan said drowsily, flopped on his back in the long grass. Spot the puppy was dozing beside him, his muzzle resting on little Mor's tummy.

"I think we should go see if the fairy ring is back by Old Fahey's tombstone," Reilly suggested.

"No one cares," Jack shot back. "You're just a stupid _girsha _whose eyes don't match." Reilly stepped back and cried out as if he had pushed her into the wall.

He'd never been this mean to her before. He felt bad, but he wasn't about to tell her he was sorry. Jack knew full well Reilly couldn't stand cracks about her eyes, since she was born with a condition that made her left eye hazel like Jack's and the right one blue like Morgan's. But right now her eyes were growing larger and angrier by the minute.

"Take that back, Francis Sullivan!" she demanded. He could tell she was about to cry, but he wouldn't give in.

"It's true, ye dumb _brablin_," he retorted. "Little _glunter_ with freaky-odd eyes!"

Morgan jumped up. "Don't make fun of me sister!" he glared. Jack pushed him so he fell hard on his back. Tears started from the little boy's eyes.

"What's the matter? Did that hurt?" Jack jeered. He knew he was being too mean. After all, the twins were only four. He heard his mumma cry out from inside the cottage. All he wanted to do was run inside and curl up in her arms and be sure she was all right. Anxiously he looked to the door, but it was his da who came out. Jack ran to him.

"Jack," Da began. Jack stared up in fear. His da couldn't look at him. "Your mumma's dead, son. She and the babe." Jack jerked away.

"No!" he screamed. "My mumma's not dead! It's lyin' ye are!" He bolted and ran inside. His pretty mumma was asleep on the bed. Sobbing, he flung himself into her arms and buried his face in her soft blonde curls. "Mumma, they told me ye died," he sobbed. She didn't wake up. He stared at her still face. She wasn't smiling. But his mumma always smiled. "Mumma?" Jack whispered. He drew back. "Mumma!" Big strong arms wrapped around him. Tears ran down his da's face and mingled with the tears of the little boy.

"She's gone, Jack," Da whispered brokenly.

Jack put out a little hand and touched his mother's face. "Mumma," he wailed. "Mumma, please come back. Mumma!" She didn't answer, and his da's arms tightened around him.

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Author's Note: This was written a VERY LONG TIME AGO. As in when I was a freshman. Ah, freshman year. So long ago…

Anyway, this story won a prize for Best Jack Kelly Fanfiction on Storm's Newsies page.

I'll post up the next chapter soon.

CTB!


	2. Chapter 2

_Killala, _ _County Mayo_ _Ireland__. December of 1888._

"Jack, you're not serious!" Jack started awake, then realized it was his da Aunt Nora was speaking to. He burrowed under the covers between Morgan on his left and Reilly on his right. Morgan was sucking his thumb again. Jack yanked it out. The sleeping boy gave a little squeak of protest, but didn't wake up. Jack tried to listen to what his da was saying.

"I'm taking Jack to America with me," he said, his voice rough and raspy.

"Sha, you'll wake the babies," Nora said automatically. "Ye can't take little Jack. This is his home. We're his family." She turned to her husband. "Tierney, tell the man he can't take him. Talk some sense into him."

Tierney Conlan set down the piece of ash wood he was whittling and sighed. "Ye can't stop him, Nory dear," he said softly, his blue eyes gentle. "Ye have to let him take his own son."

Nora sighed and bit her lower lip, unconsciously looking a great deal like her young daughter. "But he's my sister's baby." She closed her eyes. "My wee sister's baby."

Jack gently placed a big, work-worn hand over his sister-in-law's. "He's my child too," he said, quiet now.

Nora dashed a tear from her eye and wrapped her fingers around Jack's. "Very well, then," she admitted. Jack squeezed her hand and stood to leave. "But ye have to take good care of our boy."

Big Jack Sullivan's eyes turned stony. "He's not _your_ boy, Nora. He's mine and my Kelly's." he said darkly. Then he strode out of the cottage, slamming the door. Morgan woke up and bolted upright. "Mumma?" he called. Jack tried to look asleep as Aunt Nora walked over. "What was that, Mumma?" Morgan quavered.

She lifted her tiny son in her arms, letting her ash-blonde hair mix with his. "'Twas just Uncle Jack, _a stór_," she soothed him. Nora sat down in the rocking chair and began crooning a lullaby in his ear. Jack tried to stifle the tears rising in his throat as he remembered his mumma's soft, light voice singing to him.

_The water is wide, I cannot get o'er._

_And neither have I wings to fly._

_Give me a boat that will carry two_

_And both shall row, my love and I._

Morgan had fallen back into a young child's deep sleep. His mumma kissed his soft hair, then tucked him back into bed. Nora bent over the trundle bed, smiling at the three little ones tucked carefully under the covers, and stroked Reilly's curls back from her elfin face.

Then she looked at Jack. Sadly she pressed a kiss on his forehead, brushed her fingertips through his hair, and left the room. Jack hugged his blanket tight. He wanted his own mumma so bad it made his tummy ache. Maybe if he went to America he would forget. But he didn't want to forget. Jack fell asleep with thoughts jumbled.

_Killala, _ _County Mayo_ _Ireland__. March of 1889._

Jack clung to Aunt Nora, gripping her skirts with white knuckles. He had changed his mind; he wanted to stay in Killala. She could feel his terror and bent down to his eye level.

"You'll be all right, Jack," she whispered. "Go with God." She kissed the top of his head and let go. Morgan hid behind his mumma. He didn't like saying goodbye.

Wee Reilly tugged on her cousin's sleeve, her odd eyes solemn. "G'bye, Jacky boy," she said. Suddenly she stood on tiptoe and pressed a soft little kiss on his cheek. "I love ye, Jack. Be 'specially careful in 'Merica, and don't be gettin' lost."

Jack nodded, unable to speak. Da took his small, cold hand and they turned away to walk down the hill. Jack struggled not to cry. Da opened the gate to the churchyard and paused before two Celtic crosses.

"Say goodbye, Jack." Jack ran his small fingers over the raised letters of the larger cross

KELLY AINE SULLIVAN

1865-1888

BELOVED WIFE OF JACK SULLIVAN

MOTHER OF FRANCIS SULLIVAN

The smaller cross had fewer words.

ANNIE ELIZABETH SULLIVAN

1888

LET THE LITTLE CHILDREN COME TO ME

Da placed a few white flowers on the two still new graves. Jack burst into tears, and his father had to carry him most of the way to the bay.

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Author's Note: Aw…so sad! hugs chibi Jack But chibi Spot is still cuter! hugs chibi Spot And guess what! Chibi Racetrack, Chibi Kid Blink, and Chibi Crutchy will be appearing in the next chapter! Be ready!

And, I suppose I should put in a pronunciation guide/translation for the Irish words:

Da: an Irish form of Dad or Daddy

A stór: another way of spelling "asthore;" it means "my treasure."

Girsha: girl

Dia duit: God be with you; hello or goodbye

Brablin: baby, small child

Glunter: stupid, idiot, etc.

Also, this story was originally published under the Newsie Name of Smudge Caraway.


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